Ouch

It was a rough weekend. K8 spent the whole weekend with a nasty sinus headache that just wouldn't let go. Ouch.

Ozzi has a giant welt in the center of his forehead. It looks like the corner of the coffee table has converted him to Hinduism. Maybe Ganesha will make his new cold go away. Double ouch.

I have a wonderful little bruise across the bridge of my nose after being attacked by my ladder while trying to force it into a pile of snow and ice. Though considering the level of disregard for my personal safety while I attempted to remove the ice dams on our roof, I should consider myself lucky that's all I got, but still, ouch.

K8 has been doing a damn good job balancing a demanding career with getting in quality time with the boys. Yet Q, it seems, has entered a catholic mother phase in which he has taken it upon himself to break K8's will with guilt. I don't know how many times Q told K8 to, "Go to work for just a little bit then come home." All of my attempts to explain why mom has to go to work, that he's lucky to see her as much as he does, and that for many kids both parents go to work everyday are disregarded. The cliche "starving kids in Africa" speeches swim just below the surface. Then this morning Q and I have this conversation.
"Papa, Barack Obama lives in the White House?"
"Yep, now that he's president he lives in the White House."
"And he works in the White House too?"
"Yeah, his office is in the White House too."
He ponders this for a few seconds, making connections.
"Papa, I want MomMom to be president."
"Umm, No. No you don't."

OUCH!

The Year In Blur

Ozzi,

The calender and your mother tell me a year has past since your early arrival ruined our plans for one last date night. Not that I'm bitter about that but it is a nice little story to hang over your head on occasion. Just like how, every once in a great while, I remind your mother that I turned down a date with Britney Murphy for her (don't tell her, but I'm endlessly glad I did).

You and your brother have sure made recalling this past year in detail near impossible. It's all a blur of no, stop, hold still, go to sleep, aaahhhh, and shit. And though the person who you will become is still a mystery I have learned a few things about you thus far.



You have my appetite and metabolism. You're only one but you have the caloric intake of a 16 year old.

You are a stubborn roaring belligerent bad-ass little force of nature.... just like your mom... and I love that!

You've earned yourself more nicknames than an average member of the Wu Tang Clan. Ozzi was the first. Then came Cuddlefish for your love of nuzzling and your ability to turn red at the drop of a very angry hat. Q, droppin' some robotic science, coined Ozbot and it stuck like glizzue fo' shizzue. Shortly after that you started training for Everest and I christened you Reinhold Messner.

Your big brother loves you more than I ever thought possible for a sibling and you seem to adore him even more than you do your own parents... and we're cool with that. Though there is the occasional conflict, I can already see that you two will always have each others' back... and that is more important to me than most anything else.

You are a smart, inquisitive, fast, and funny little dude... and I love you more than life itself.

Happy Birthday!

Damn You Irony!

I am convinced the boys are plotting against us. Worst yet, they are using what I post on this blog as fuel for their clever cruelty. "Sleepyhead ehe? Comparing me to a raver? We'll show them! Muuhahaha!"

In the middle of the night Ozzi is screaming like he's on fire. K8 and I betray our better judgment to bring him into our bed. Like roadies digging for all the green M&M's to fill a bowl in Mick Jagger's dressing room, we know we're just condoning the behavior, but, at 1 in the morning, we're not willing to endure the wrath incurred. We must have dropped a few red ones into the bowl. From 1 to 4 am Ozzi was screaming, laughing, crying, babbling, flailing, and playing like a belligerent drunk. Not drunk on alcohol, drunk on power. Power over his weak enabler parents. He bites his beautiful mother. He stage dives onto my head and gives me a face full of pee engorged diaper. "This isn't a fucking Daft Punk concert you cute crazy little shit, it's Mama and Papa's bed. It's not party time, it's sleeping time. Pleeeeaaaaaaase go to sleep. Please! AAAAAHHHHH!"

Whimpers from the other room warn us of the approach of the whining reinforcements that Ozzi has called in. Q's arrival to the battle in our bed, however, does not work out to Ozzi's favor. Emboldened by overcrowding and sleep deprivation, I gather Ozzi up and place him back in his crib. I return to our bed.... and Q. Q begins to lightly moan and stroke my hair like a teenager on ecstasy and Ozzi catches on fire again. The battle rages back and forth until eventually Q, realizing a wild and ruckus neighbor is more tolerable than a wild and ruckus bedfellow, returns to his own bed. K8 manages, with great effort, to cajole Ozzi to sleep just in time to miss the morning sun rise into our window.

Electric Kool-Aid Ozzi Test

This song, Sleepyhead by Passion Pit, came on the Current today and Ozzi went joyfully bonkers.... better hide the glow sticks now!

Shit.

Ozzi just walked unaided for 5 feet. When Q hit milestones like this we celebrated. With Ozzi, we now see things like walking for what they are, advancements in trouble-making technology. These are just 15 more steps toward world domination.

Movements

This weekend we moved Ozzi's crib out of our bedroom and into Q's room. Our "thinking" was that his insane, unrelenting screams at night were partly fueled by the fact that he could see us there in our bed. Maybe he wouldn't have the same expectations of Q to cave to his angry, sleep depriving persistance. Or maybe he just knew that he could make Q a screaming offer he couldn't refuse; to join him in braking Mama and Papa's wills, forcing us to move Ozzi to the comforts of our bed and K8's boob.

Our second attempt at getting Q to move out onto the field with his soccer coach and other kids was a success. Our first day of soccer did not go well. Q clung to my leg crying. We had to leave early. What a difference a week filled with kicking the ball around at home and at Mattocks Park, going to a big kid game, phone calls with Grandpa and Grandma, and promises of Izzy's Ice Cream at Java Train can make. He's certainly no Freddy Adu, but he went out there and gave it his easily distracted best. He may have even found himself a new girlfriend via a shared love for picking dandelions. Preschool Soccer could be one of the funniest things I've ever watched.

We've been moved to find food for Ozzi that is not only healthy but more adventurous in the flavor department than what we can find at Super Target or Mississippi Market. We found it at the Farmers Market. Sweet Cheeks Baby Food is all local and organic and Ozzi seems to love it...

especially the beets, though the movement in his diaper the next day is, well, Vikings Purple. If you're looking for baby food definitely check out Sweet Cheeks.

Like little phoenixes from the ashes

How in the world did these two handsome devils emerge from my genetic output? The only theory I have is that K8 passed on 100% dominant traits while I am a mass of purely recessive. Lucky for them.

Backyard Shenanigans

Ozfest

Making comb-overs cool.


Rockin' the rice cereal!


Ozzi vs Blanket

Ooooohhhhh is for Ozzi

The Stink-eye

Smiley

Thanks again Jen!

Our friend Jen made a super cool knit hat for Ozzi. In orange of course.

Cuttlefish

If I would get off my ass and get the proper cable to hook up the video camera to the mac, I could post some video of Ozzi's face changing red. Then put it next to this video to explain his new nickname.

HOLY CRAP IT IS COLD!

-10 degrees! I am so ready for spring... or a trip somewhere warm, but having a 1 month old kinda puts the kabosh on that hope. I guess all we can do is warm up with some oh so cute pictures of the boys.

Ozzi out for a walk on a warmer day.



Ozzi's getting bigger everyday.



Q Makes birthday cake float.

DaaaDum DaaDum DaDaDaDaDaDa....

I can't help but think of the Jaws theme when I look at these pictures.

sniff HAPPY cough NEW cough YEAR ahhchoo

I knew I cursed us all to a sickly hell when I bragged to a friend that Q hasn't been sick for almost a year. Well now we're all coughing and hacking our way into the new year. Of course this little bug didn't slow Q down opening presents for his birthday but poor baby Ozzi is so stuffed up that he has to choose between feeding or breathing.

We'll probably miss out on ECFE this week too. Bummer. Social interaction has become pretty hard to come by now with the new baby, cold weather, and now our runny noses.

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays



from DK, K8, Q, and Ozzi!

So far so good.

It's been a week since Q met his new little brother. Though he does seem to be acting out a little, so far he's doing quite well with this major change. He tries really hard to help out and loves to hold little Ozzi.

Thanks to all the friends and family for all the gifts, food, treats, and company.

Happy Holidays!

Babies CAN Sleep At Night!

Last night ,the third night at home, Ozzi slept great. He only woke up twice to eat and even then he just quietly fussed instead of screaming like the last two nights. This is great because it allows me to get up in the morning with Q, have breakfast, and then spend some quality time with the internet while Q watches Curious George on PBS and K8 takes a little morning snooze with Ozzi.

A few things I've found worth sharing:

1. They Might Be Giants just started a video podcast for kids. So far its pretty cool. You can find it in iTunes Store. I'm guessing they will use some of the stuff they already have on YouTube like this,




2. the music video that I constantly saw on MTV Italia while we were in Italy a year before Q was born,




3. and if you really want to feel stupid watch this guy kick some serious math ass.